


Coming Home

by brodiew



Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: Beth loves Harry, F/M, From Sex to Love, Harry loves Beth, I'll leave it at that, Masturbation, Missionary Position, Orgasm, not good at tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28106289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodiew/pseuds/brodiew
Summary: Harry ruminates on his past and present sexual relationship with Beth as they prepare for intercourse.
Relationships: Harry Beltik/Beth Harmon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> I write on the fly. Most all of my fics are flash fics and I go where they lead me. Sometimes, I'm not sure of the outcome. I'll let you be the judge. Could this be fleshed out a little more. Perhaps. But it is what it is. 
> 
> I sometimes wonder if this is the character from he show. Is this how she would act. Am I getting her right? Then I say what the heck and post because, I'm pleased enough with the product.
> 
> It is also my fist explicit fic on this pseud. I hope I know what the smut I'm doing. If you like it, please leave a kudo or a comment to let me know I'm on the right track. Enjoy!

Coming Home

Harry never expected the feeling of entering Beth to be anything more than tactile. That is how it had been in months after her return from Paris. The friction and warm wetness of her was pleasurable, but to his regret, mechanical. He was not a virgin, nor was he experienced, which was evident of with Beth as well. They fumbled into a routine which got them both off, but lacked a shred of intimacy. 

When she returned from Russia, she was a different person. That's not exactly true. She had changed, and for the better. Not only did she appear happy, if such a thing was possible, she was also more relaxed. Easy going. He remembered her stiffness, even in bed. A rigidity which he had not been able to overcome. Soon enough, he had stopped trying. It seemed that for her to relax, there had to be booze or pills. Those damn pills. So, even when the sex seemed more natural, she wasn't really present. This was not Beth after beating Borgov and becoming the World Champion. Something that could have sent her on a celebratory bender had, in fact, had the opposite effect. She was clean and sober. 

When she came home, they had rekindled their friendship, if that is what it had been. However, it soon became clear that Beth was ready to take it to the next level. Harry was not sure what that meant. Those many months ago, he had nearly bared his heart to her and she had callously or fearful changed the subject so abruptly that he knew his time with her was short. He was not going to be her play thing. He would not let her abuse his heart that way. 

This Beth was different. She laughed, joyfully. She took time to stop and smell the roses, as it were. When she looked at him, he could tell there was more than a desperate need to not be alone. She listened instead of pacifying him with hollow agreements or awkward sexual advances. She drank mineral water and tea and lots of Coca-Cola. Not a pill bottle in sight. He checked. Their relationship had blossomed into one of mutual respect and affection. He loved her and he dared to say she loved him as well. 

All these thought flood his head as he stands at the foot of their bed and stares unabashed at her Beth's naked body. It is at once as lithe and shapely as a redheaded Barbie, but also supple and sensuous and goddamn sexy. He loves her ivory skin and contrast of her red locks and the inviting patch of orange between her legs. Her breasts are round and stand pert all on their own. Her pointed, pink nipples beg him to take them in his mouth. She moving on the sheets, writhing slowly, arching her back only a little, raising a knee off the mattress and letting it fall to the side before again, placing her legs together. He tries to catch her eye, but they are closed, perhaps lost in similar thoughts to his. This isn't the Beth the world sees. This is Beth for Harry. This is trust and love and confidence in each other. This is vulnerability and it makes Harry's heart fly. It also makes his cock achingly hard. 

When she opens her eyes, Harry sees the flash of disappointment. She moans and sighs heavily pointing at his chest absently. He is still dressed. He begins to unbutton his shirt and watches as she pulls herself into a sitting position in the middle of the bed. Her hair falls into her face, beginning to lose its form, which is fine by him because he can't love it enough. 

She crawls toward him, meeting his eyes, and hooks a hand into his belt. She begins to unbuckle him, quickly, unzipping his pants and pushing them down to the floor. His cock is straining against the thin cotton of his plaid boxer shorts. In a motion almost to quick for his eyes to follow, the boxers are on the floor as well. His cock is free in the warm air of the house. It is long, perhaps eight inches, but thin in his estimation. He sometimes wished it was thicker. She takes hold of it near the top, engulfing the head in her palm and pulls him forward onto the bed. He discards his shirt to chair in the corner of the room. She lays down, never letting go of his cock. He walks forward on his knees and is between her open knees and staring down at the patch of orange that grow wetter before his eyes as Beth places two fingers into the wetness and pull them up and over her hooded clit and into the hairs. His dick throbs as it hovers over her entrance and his fingers caress her knees and thighs. There is no severity in her face as he watches her stroke herself. No pain or grief. There is a softness about her that is not only skin deep. Her eyes close, but her eye brows cinch as if in pain, but it's not pain, it is pleasure. He tries to imagine what she's feeling as her motions intensify. She alternates between rubbing her clit and dipping her fingers inside herself. 

Harry begins to stroking himself dryly, pulling his foreskin up and over the head and back again. He's staying hard, what guy wouldn't with goddess like Beth masturbating in front of them. Within another two or three minutes, he motions are frantic and her breath is coming hard and fast. She raises her butt off the mattress and brings it back down. She's moaning and cursing under her breath and her fingers are a blur. 

“Harry?” she pants, heavily. “Harry, are you there?” 

Her body seizes up and and she arches again, this time to her right side as spams rock her body and she closes her legs tightly as the spasms continues. 

“I'm here, Beth,” he confirms, still stroking his cock with his left hand as he reaches out and places and hand on her upper thigh. He could feel the last traces of her ebbing orgasm . “I'm not going anywhere.” 

He laid down beside her, his cock touching her knees which had been pulled into a fetal position. He gently pulled wild hairs from her face and felt the wetness of sweat on her brow. 

“That was out of sight,” she whispered, her chest still rising and falling at a quickened pace. He watched the outline of her breasts covered by her arm.

“You looked so beautiful,” he replied. 

She turned away from his compliment, not wanting to receive it. But turned back immediately. “Thank you, Harry. Maybe you'll let me watch you later on.” 

“Later on?” he smirked. “I'm almost there. That was hot!” 

“I want you inside me, Harry,” she said, longingly. “I want to feel you.” 

He nodded with a slow blink of his eyes. “I want to feel you too.” 

She rolled over and the yellow light of the bedside lamp spilled across her stomach. Harry could feel precum ooze from his tip at the sight of her flat stomach and arch of her pelvis. Her legs were open and he moved to position himself between them. The lips of her entrance glistened with new wetness and blend of her cum and sweat and pubic hair was a heady aroma. He placed the head his cock at the entrance and leaned over her, locking his eyes to her hazel depths, before slowly pushing into her. 

Harry had never expected the feeling of entering Beth to more than tactile. If there was a God, he thanked Him for how wrong that expectation turned out to be. She was a perfect fit. The warmth and tightness felt welcoming and the pressure of her walls on him felt like she was hugging him. Corny, but true. As he began to tenderly stroke in and out of her, he felt and heard her respond. She moaned his name as her hands rested on each of his arms at either side of her waist. Her breasts rocked lightly in time with his motions as he leaned down to kiss a taught nipple and them move to her mouth to kiss her hungrily. No, this was not the mechanical exercise of their past, nor was it Beth's frenzied cathartic fucking. Being inside Beth now felt like home and there was other place he would rather be.


End file.
